Murderer
by Cowpie Surprise
Summary: [One Shot] Someone gets taken away by none other than the Phantom, and she teaches him a little about what she knows. EM


**Just something I thought of. I don't own POTO.**

**Murderer**

"Where did he take her?" Raoul ran anxiously up to Madame Giry as chaos broke out all around them.

"Come with me, monsieur. I will take you to him. But remember, keep your hand at the level of your eyes!" Madame Giry started off.

"I'll come with you!" Meg excitedly shot up next to her mother.

"No, Meg, no! You must stay here!" Madame Giry demanded. She raced off down the dark halls with Raoul trailing after her.

Meg turned and stuck her hands out at an oncoming mob bent on following Madame Giry and Roaul.

"No!" she cried, stopping them.

"No?" a man cried out, laughing. "You want us to let that murderer live?"

"Monsieur de Changy has gone to kill him," Meg stated firmly.

"Him? The Patron?" a mocking voice called out. "It'll take more than one man to stop him."

"That's why we all need to go!" the first man said.

"No. My maman said we stay here," Meg stamped her foot angrily.

"Aww, how cute. Won't do anything against her mother's word. Well, stand aside then, and we'll go! She only said that you have to stay here, not us," a tall woman shoved Meg aside, and the mob shot past her. Meg lay on the floor in shock.

People carrying torches and clubs with other various items as weapons swept past Meg as she sat on the floor, watching each of them pass. It was as if there wasn't anyone staying behind; it appeared everyone had gone to hunt down the Phantom.

Meg could not bear it any longer. She jumped up and grabbed a torch from its place and ran to the back of the mob, chanting with them.

_Track down this  
murderer -  
he must be found!_

Meg's heart pounded into her chest as she marched deep beneath the opera house. She gazed at her surroundings, a bit scared at what she saw, but being in a big group made her feel brave, and she kept tramping deeper and deeper with the mob chanting in front of her.

At one point, the mob scattered, and Meg didn't know which way to go at first. She finally chose one group and sloshed in the water down the corridor after them, making her way to the front of her group. She peered into every corner and dark spot, holding her flaming torch bravely before her.

After searching for about half an hour, Meg's feet began to ache until she saw a raised portcullis, and regained her strength as she waded through the deep water, and felt proud when she saw candles and other items emerging into view. Her group followed her, and soon the whole mob was in the lair, turning everything over.

It was Meg's idea to go into the back room, and she saw a black bed with silk black curtains drifting alongside it. Then something white and shimmering caught her eye, dancing in the light of her torch and the candles lit all around her. Peering down, her heart thudded so loud she could hear it; it was the Phantom's own mask.

She picked it up, gazing at it intently, running her fingers gently over the curved edges that fit the face of a murderer. A small box with a Persian monkey sitting atop it also caught her attention. She touched it lightly, then, tucking the mask in her pocket, she wandered back to the group.

"He's not in there," she said, not mentioning the item she had found. "I checked."

She felt a bit irritated when the mob swarmed into the back room anyway, but once again, things dancing in the light of her torch caught her eye. She bent down to see tiny pieces of mirrored glass scattered everywhere on the floor before her.

"Funny…where did those come from?" her eyes followed the pieces to a lavishly decorated curtain with golden tassels, and her curiosity got the better of her as she excitedly pulled the tassels back.

A dark tunnel loomed before her. Meg shined her torch down, but darkness still lay ahead of her.

Meg had never been one to think very sensibly, and before she knew it, she stepped into the tunnel, not telling the mob where she had gone or what she had found.

She, however, left the curtain pulled back so she could use the light to find her way back. All of a sudden, that light vanished, and Meg panicked. Someone had closed the curtain on her. She whirled around, and at that moment, something snatched her torch from her hand and it instantly went out. Meg froze. Then, all at once, she began waving her hands around in the darkness, searching for the velvety curtain to bring her back out.

When someone grabbed her arm, Meg screamed, but a gloved hand shot over her mouth.

"Do you wish for them to find me?" a voice hissed.

Meg's heart hammered into her chest, squirming a little, but finding it was no use. She sat in the darkness with the Phantom, backed against a cold stony wall. She heard the voices of the mob lingering in the darkness, and she wished she had obeyed her mother and stayed backstage. He would probably murder her...Meg felt her blood run cold att he thought.

One by one the voices died out until silence had restored the Phantom's lair. Meg begged in her mind for the Phantom to make her swear not to tell anyone and shove her out into the candle light, but he kept a good grip on her arm and pulled her deeper into the tunnel.

"Where are you taking me?" Meg's voice wavered nervously.

No reply.

"I want to go back," Meg tried to pull free.

He showed no signs of letting her go. Meg gave up, scared to death. Here she was, following this wraith, this phantom, this murderer—deeper and deeper into the blackness. At one point Meg let out a choking sob, and she felt the grip on the Phantom lighten a little bit—but it was not enough for her to break free.

After what seemed like forever of walking in the pitch black, he opened a wooden door and they emerged in a candle lit room. All there was in the tiny room was a bed, trunk, chair, cabinet, and a wood-burning stove. He sat her on the bed and went over to the trunk, pulling out a thick blanket.

"You must be cold from walking through the lake," he said stiffly, handing her the blanket. She cautiously wrapped it around herself.

The Phantom went over to the door, shutting it and bolting it. Meg noticed she could still escape. She was thinking about jumping up and unbolting the door and tearing down into the tunnel, when his calm voice interrupted her.

"I'll get you something hot to drink."

He took a small kettle out of the cabinet and set it on the stove as he lit it. They remained silent until the water was hot, and he brewed her some tea. Setting it on the chair before her like it was a table, the Phantom sat himself on the trunk.

Meg took a slow sip and realized it was her favorite tea: raspberry with a pinch of honey. She looked at him quizzically. However did he know?

"You're staring at my face, aren't you?" he said angrily.

"W-what?" Meg had just realized that he wasn't wearing his mask. How had she not noticed it before? "N-no, Monsieur Phantom, I was thinking about how you knew this was my favorite tea." She remembered the mask I her pocket. "Oh, but if you want your mask…" she pulled it out and held the smooth object towards him.

"You-you didn't notice?" he asked, taking it from her.

"No, Monsieur Phantom…I forgot you weren't wearing it," Meg said sheepishly.

"Thank you," he replied. He hesitated putting it on, and stopped.

"You do not have to wear the mask if you don't want to," Meg said. "It won't make a difference to me."

"It won't?" he looked into her eyes. Meg wanted to melt with the sadness mixed with relief inside them. One was green…the other blue…Meg thought they were the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen…she snapped out of her trance and shook her head.

"I don't mind," she smiled meekly.

_All these years I thought people hated me because of my face…and here it someone who does not mind. She does not mind that I wear a mask or not._

The Phantom slowly put the mask down on the bed. When he looked back at Meg, she was smiling.

"I believe people should not hide what God gave them, because they are all beautiful," Meg spoke.

"Oh, you are a preacher now?" he asked, and Meg felt him turning angry again.

"I know it is hard for you to go out into the world without a mask, but you should not be ashamed of your…your…"

"Curse? Scar? Deformity?" the Phantom stung.

"Birth mark," Meg said quietly.

_How she put it…she made it sound like there was nothing wrong with my face…like I was normal…_

"No," he said shortly. "That's not true…they hate me anyway."

Without thinking, Meg reached over to where he was sitting on the trunk and placed her hand on his.

"That's only because you have not shown them what truly lies within," she whispered.

"I HAVE!" he shouted so suddenly, Meg pulled her hand back with a jump. "I…have. Through the operas. Through…" he choked on the word. "…Christine. I have shown them what I feel. They just don't understand it."

"I do," Meg replied, slowly coming forward again.

_She cares._

"I understand. What I say is never important. The only person who truly listens to me is my Maman. Everyone thinks I am annoying and in the way…sometimes even Christine."

"I don't know why I brought you here and why you are telling me this…you are just a little girl..." the Phantom started to break down.

"Please, Monsieur Phantom, don't cry," Meg felt awkward telling him this.

"Stop it with the 'Monsieur Phantom'. I am Erik," his voice quivered.

"Erik," Meg repeated. "Either way, I am not ashamed of your face."

Erik didn't move. Then, "You are the only one."

"No, Erik, I'm not. There is God."

"I gave up on Him long ago," Erik sneered. "I don't believe in Him."

Meg was silent for a while. She gazed into his eyes again, a fire burning in her eyes.

"But He believes in you."

Silence dominated the tiny room once again. The tears came before the sobbing. Meg watched them slide down his cheek and fall into his lap. After a few were spilled, he began to moan softly. Meg touched his hand again, and gave it a small squeeze.

They sat in this position until Erik stood up.

"I thank you, Meg Giry," he spoke. "I shall show you back, but remember not to tell. I'll remember what you said. But I don't know if I shall believe it just yet."

Meg set her empty cup back on the chair and let the Phantom take her hand as he unbolted the door and led her back into the darkness. They were silent for a long time until he pulled back the curtain into his lair.

"I trust you can find your way back," he said.

Meg nodded. She stepped out onto the broken pieces of glass, and felt a quick kiss on her cheek. She whipped around, only to see an unbroken mirror where the curtain was. Her heart pounded hard once again, a voice lingering in her ear.

_You don't care whether I wear a mask or not._

**Tada! Done! LoL. This is meant to be a one-shot, but if I get enough reviews, I may make it a E/M story…though I already have one. This one seems to be having a fair start though, so we shall see. Thanks!**


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